I'd rather be
by InTenseInTents
Summary: Quinn owns a bookstore. Rachel bullies her way into said bookstore. AU with older Quinn.


I'm new to writing. I just have a lot of Faberry feelings. I apologize for any and all grammatical errors.

* * *

It was with great confidence and determination in which Rachel Berry strode through North Lima's commercial district. Flats softly hitting the ground with each step, face in pure concentration.

It took more than her desired time to get there, but the brunette appreciated the walk. She walked past the string of stores that was the Lima Mall and the The Lima Bean before turning right and cutting through a small, densely occupied park.

There it was, in maroon block letters, "Between the Pages." A lovely secondhand bookstore settled between, "The Softback Café" and a string of antique stores. With a nod and flick to her perfectly framed bangs, she made her way indoors; a bell instantly chiming, announcing her presence to whoever might be inside.

The shop was lightly dimmed. It was apparent to Rachel that whoever owned the place wanted to create a specific type of atmosphere. And it showed. The brunette immediately knew this was where she needed to spend her spare evenings. Shelves ran along the walls, others perfectly spaced thought the small building. Quiet. Secluded. A place where mutual respect was expected.

"Can I help you?" a soft voice inquired.

Rachel quickly turned to the direction of the voice. Behind a large oak desk sat a pretty blonde woman with brass glasses, hair neatly pulled back in what seemed to be a short ponytail.

"Hi?" the blonde asked again, leaning closer. "You've almost burned a hole into that wall with how long you've been staring."

Rachel shook her head, erasing her thoughts of the quaint little shop along with the light smirk being directed at her, and with a slight clear of her throat she stepped forward and got back to the task at hand.

"Hello, my name is Rachel Berry. Am I correct in assuming you're the owner?"

"You're correct," the blonde replied. "My name is Quinn Fabray." She carefully set her book down, giving the small brunette her undivided attention.

"Yes well, as I stated before, my name is Rachel Berry and I'm here to offer you the opportunity of having me as your volunteer." She put on her best show smile, confidence radiating from her perfectly exfoliated pores.

Quinn blinked once. Twice. Slightly taken aback from Rachel's obvious display of humility and manic smile.

"No," the blonde easily replied. She flipped through her book, brow furrowed in disappointment as she realized she'd lost her place.

Rachel's smile faltered for just a second –confused over the quick brush-off of her undeniable charm– before quickly regaining composure. This is what Plan B's were for, after all.

"Very well then, I understand that a business owner such as yourself would require references and paperwork describing my employment history and educational background," she quickly reached into her messenger bag, retrieving her flawless resume –layout courtesy of – enveloped in a transparent three hole punched folder. "I'd be happy to hand those over to you."

Rachel set the glossy folder on the blonde's desk and slowly nudged it forward, silently urging for her attention.

Quinn turned a page, never leaving her gaze from the paperback. "That won't be necessary Rachel; I have no need for a volunteer. I'm perfectly capable of managing everything on my own."

"Surely there must be _somethi-_ "

Quinn exhaled out a loud exasperated breath, finally looking up at the brunette. "Rachel, take look around you. This isn't exactly Lima's hot spot, you'd be wasting your time –and mine," she finished with a half whisper before returning to her book.

"I don't think you understand the magnitude of the situation Ms. Fabray," Rachel huffed. "I _greatly_ urge you to reconsider." It took everything she had not to stomp her foot in indignation. The nerve. _Why was she being so difficult? _She collected herself for the second time since the encounter, not thinking she would be left to a last resort.

Encapsulating the demeanor of someone completely let down to a point, the brunette let out a long disappointed sigh, her face just short of a full blown pout. "It's _such_ a shame." She ran her fingers across the desk before reaching back for her resume, "My father's, _Hiram_ and _Leroy_," –she made sure to emphasize their names with a pointed look to the hazel eyed blonde before continuing–, "will be just _heartbroken_ at the prospect of me not being able to volunteer my time at their favorite bookstore, of all places." She looked back at Quinn, with what she's sure to be the best puppy dog eyes she's ever delivered.

Quinn Fabray wasn't stupid, she knew what the tiny brunette was trying to accomplish. She took a glance at her wall clock, noticing it was seven forty five. Fifteen minutes left until close. She decided to throw the girl a bone in desperation –her patience suddenly running incredibly thin, silently hoping she wasn't repeating the mistake she made with her last volunteer.

The blonde's tone turned saccharine, "Hiram and Leroy? Why hadn't you told me earlier? Your dads are a _lovely_ couple. I was thinking of setting up an antiquing section with them in mind." This much was true –she had enjoyed their company over the last couple of weeks. She had a drawer full of knick knacks she'd acquired thanks to them. Quinn decided to reward the brunette's determination with a smile and continued, "When should I be expecting you?"

Rachel quirked her lips into a smile and replied, "Tomorrow. Four o'clock sharp, Ms. Fabray."

Rachel beamed on her way out of the shop, praising her powers of persuasion.

* * *

_I don't need any help, my ass_, Rachel thought, as she struggled to push a cardboard box full of country westerns to the appropriate bookshelf -which just so _conveniently_ happened to be at the opposite side of the shop. _Who reads these anyway? _She inspected one of the paperbacks, then another and a third one. _Out of the Ashes, Fire in the Ashes, Anarchy in the Ashes. Very original. _With a roll of her eyes, she placed the books back and continued on with her quest. With both hands gripping the edge of the box, she started to push. A dozen grunts and huffs later, she managed to get two inches and lightly scuffed shoes.

This was her first test. She needed to pass. She needed to prove to Quinn that she made the right choice in allowing her to help.

Besides, she practically _begged_. There was no way her ego would remain unscathed if she gave up now.

"Oh, screw it."

The brunette started to gather an armful of paperbacks, one or two slipping from her grasp as she did so. Once she was sure she had a good grip, she made the journey to the Western Fiction section. She lowered herself slowly and let the books hit the ground. One by one she shelved them. Back and forth she went, box to shelf, until it was light enough for her to drag.

Meanwhile, Quinn silently watched on, eyes peeking from atop of her book; hiding her amusement.

Hiram had called her that afternoon, thanking her profusely for letting Rachel spend her available evenings at the shop. He started to explain, saying that the ballet program at the community center had been temporarily suspended, but she unfortunately had to cut him short due to a customer.

"You know, there's a small dolly right beside the other boxes." Quinn said, a light smirk presenting itself. Just because she happened to like the brunettes' parents didn't mean she wasn't going to at least tease her a little bit. She _had_ begged, after all.

"There is?" Rachel lightly frowned, confused. "I didn't see it when I was back there…" She started to make her way back when she quickly whipped around and placed her hands squarely on her hips. "Wait, why didn't you tell me?" a sharp accusatory tone to her voice. "Hmm?" Rachel glared. "I know you were watching me."

Quinn rested her chin on her hand, feigning disinterest. "I wanted to know what you would do, honestly." She shrugged lightly. "I _was_ going to tell you right before you became a human pack mule, but your determination as a worker sparked my curiosity and so I let you finish. It's all managerial duty, you see," she finished with a wave of her hand and cast her eyes back to her book, only to quickly rise them up again. "Also, don't forget to alphabetize the Western Fiction subcategories," she added quickly before returning her attention to the softback.

Rachel released a breath and headed to the back, the blonde eyeing her as she went.


End file.
